A friend of mine recently posted a photo of herself and her 7-year-old son after they skinned up Aspen Mountain.<\/p>\n
“You’re raising the bar way too high” I commented, unable to resist what feels like a constant urge to engage in sarcasm on social media, which often doesn’t translate well. I decided I better follow it up with “amazing mother and son.”<\/p>\n
I meant it. No doubt it’s quite an accomplishment, and not at all surprising in terms of the genetic equation. My friend is a driven athlete, a marathon runner and endurance type who is always pushing the farther\/faster\/longer envelope. She’s amazing.<\/p>\n
I totally get wanting to share this mountain lifestyle with our kids. Part of why I live here is because I always dreamed of raising kids here. We are so fortunate that they get to grow up in such a healthy environment and learn the ways of the outdoors as little puppies, away from screens and junk food.<\/p>\n
And if there is one thing I have learned in the three short years I’ve become a mother, it’s to never judge the way people parent their own children. I’m literally doing almost everything I swore I would never do.<\/p>\n
Letting the kid into our bed? Check. Sending him to school with knots in his hair because I’m not up for a full-on battle before 9 a.m.? You bet. Allowing him to run through the aisles at Whole Foods full speed, giggling madly while I scream his first and middle name and carry on, which he thinks is hilarious and doesn’t listen? That, too.<\/p>\n
Know what I’m about to say has nothing to do with my friend’s choices. She’s a superhero, so of course her kid is, too.<\/p>\n
It’s just that I can’t imagine skinning up Ajax at 7 years old. That’s probably because I’ve never skinned up Ajax, ever. The whole before-9 o’clock-in-the morning thing doesn’t work for me at all and I’ve never been a fan of outdoor activity at night. Tiehack is hard enough as it is, not to mention the humiliation I must endure every time I am passed by that old guy I didn’t even see coming.<\/p>\n
I have friends whose kids have hiked Highland Bowl at a young age, too. I totally get this rite of passage as a skier. I also understand wanting to indoctrinate your child into what I like to call the Bowl Babe Club, and the sense of adventure and accomplishment that comes with standing on top of a peak that high, especially in winter, especially when you can ski down.<\/p>\n
But here’s what I don’t get.<\/p>\n
When I was a kid, I hated hiking. Hated it. I tolerated biking but hated the uphill climbs. My dad would always drag me on these too-long bike rides that felt like they were uphill both ways. Maybe I was lazy, but I don’t think so because by the age of 12 I’d already exhausted my career as a competitive gymnast that had me in the gym four to six hours a day. I could do 50 chin-ups back then, and I can’t even do one now, at least not without a rubber strap for assistance. (This fact makes me so mad and I am determined to change that in 2019!)<\/p>\n
Skiing was fun. Biking downhill or on flats was fun. Gymnastics was fun. I loved swimming and diving, too. But I did not see the appeal of hiking or exercising at all, whatsoever.<\/p>\n
I guess what I’m getting at is, when does it become too much? When are we pushing our kids too hard, and when is too soon?<\/p>\n
Parents throughout the ages have pushed their kids to love the things they love. For my parents, it was all about getting a good education and going to the best college; that was something they planned for from the time I was in grade school and showing all kinds of promise. By first grade, I was one of these gifted kids who got to attend special classes. Boy, did I show them when I didn’t make it to Yale but ended up going to community college and matriculating into a four-year state school \u2014 which is precisely my point.<\/p>\n
We put Levi on skis for the first time when he was 13 months old. He rode a chairlift at 2 and we take him skiing every Sunday. I am so filled with joy in seeing him in this element that I often feel as though I might self-combust. We take a million videos, and in every single one I am cackling madly, like someone who has become dangerously unhinged.<\/p>\n
I get it. I do.<\/p>\n
I’m sure my friends who live in other places are baffled by the amount of time and money we’ve spent to take our toddler skiing. With his five-point leash harness and matching helmet and goggles, he looks like a sky diver. His ski pants even have an Aspen logo on the back of the leg (I bought them at D&E in El Jebel where everything has the Aspen logo on it) and someone in the gondola line commented, “That’s the smallest ski instructor I ever saw.”<\/p>\n
My friend Sarah, who has been teaching kids to ski for a million years, says it’s important to not do overdo it and always leave them wanting more. My friend Brett, who has a lot of experience teaching kids how to surf, says if you think you’re going too slow, go even slower. He says it’s important to make sure your kid doesn’t have a scary experience that will either set them back or turn them off to the sport altogether.<\/p>\n
Yes, of course I want Levi to be an X Games gold medalist and I swear, I am not going to push him too hard. I might even let him choose to be a skier.<\/p>\n
The Princess needs to get a bowl lap in this week. Email your love to alisonmargo@gmail.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n